Heroes Drabbles
by ac-the-brain-supreme
Summary: Drabbles that originally appeared on LiveJournal. Normally range from K- maybe M.
1. Drabble 1

_This drabble was a submission to the 2007 Heroes Ficathon. The prompt was "Contact High (Peter/Isaac)". Please, enjoy._

**ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes or the characters in this drabble. Which sucks so bad...**

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Rough, paint-stained hands slide slowly up his pale, thin body, making him shiver and moan. They give him a taste that he likes so much.

The hands run down his back, over his buttox, then grab his thighs. They make him whimper and reach out, wanting more of this feeling that can be given only by a special type of dealer.

Finers prod into him, moving him open. They make him arch and pant, wanting more and willing to do anything to get it.

He strokes and feels and makes him orgasm, makes him feel like he's out of his body.

And when they cuddle together afterwards, the paint-stained hands rubbing circles on his back, he realizes how the other feels. He knows what it feels like to be addicted.


	2. Drabble 2

_Something else from the Heroes Ficathon! The prompt for this one was "Matt and Mohinder's first kiss". Pairing, obviously, is Matt and Mohinder. (MOTT!)_

**ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes and is running out of witty sayings.**

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(-----**Matt's First Kiss**-----)

Cindy was the prettiest girl in the whole entire school. She always wore her hair in two ponytails, which made it easy to pull on them when she joined us in game of tag. She always wore Converses too. Never the same pair twice in one week. They always changed color with whatever color her ponytail scrunchies were that day. And her shoes always had the coolest designer shoelaces, too. All the girls would go crazy over whatever Cindy was wearing that day because whatever Cindy wore was what was in style in sixth grade.

One day, Cindy slipped me a note that asked me to check a box if I liked her. I checked the "yes" box and returned the note to her backpack when she wasn't looking. The next period, I found another note, asking if I would want to meet her behind the school gym at three thirty. There were no boxes this time and I was too scared to go up and tell her that I would meet her there, so instead I went and waited by the gym until she showed up. Eventually she did, and when she got there she asked if I would be her boyfriend. I told her I would. Then she leaned in and kissed me.

The next day, though. When I came up and hugged her, she pushed me off and told me I was weird. I sent her a note asking her to check a box if she liked me. When I got it back, it was checked "no".

(-----**Mohinder's First Kiss**-----)

Sarita and I had been going out for about two months before our parents would let us be by ourselves. We both agreed that it was ridiculous because we were in our freshman year of high school and we weren't going to do anything crazy like have sex.

Anyway, one date, we were just hanging out at my house watching a movie and we saw these two people kiss. Sarita mentioned how romantic it was and that she wanted to be kissed just like that. I said I could probably kiss her like that. She dared me to and so I leaned over to her and kissed her. Then we stared at each other and decided we should find something else to watch.

(-----**Matt and Mohinder's First Kiss**-----)

It was after Sylar came back and was looking for the cure to the virus.

It was the day after you came back from Texas.

Yeah. Which was after Sylar came back and was looking for the cure to the virus.

I know!

Anyway, you and Molly were still pretty shaken up by what happened and that Mexican girl--

Maya is from Hondouras.

--She was staying with Mohinder and Molly for the time, trying to see if Mohinder would save her from her powers. You and I hadn't spoken to each other during the time I wasn't at home, so when I got home and saw Maya there I was really confused. I found Mohinder and pulled him outside into the hallway and I asked him who that girl was and what she was doing there. He explained what happened and, well...

He read my mind.

I did not!

Yes you did! You always read my mind when I'm vulnerable.

And is that such a bad thing?

See, you like it.

Still, you should've asked.

What? To kiss you or to read your mind? Because if I asked you, you would've just denied everything.

See, you agree with me!

I did not agree with-- Mmff!

...You know you like the surprises.

...I hate you, Matt.

I love you too, Mohinder.


	3. Drabble 3

_Another entry from the 2007 LJ Heroes Ficathon. The prompt was "Tainted--Mohinder/Sylar". My favorite pairing._

**ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes. She wishes she owned a roast beef panini now...stares off into space**_

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In Chinese philosophy, there is a symbol known as the _taijitu. _The_ taijitu _is composed of two parts, forming a circle with each other. In both parts, there is a small circle of the color opposite the color the small circle is in. This symbol represents the balance of the universe, that one side is needed to balance the whole and that both parts needs a little bit of the other. If not, the universe will fall out of balance and everything will be cast into chaos._

(----------)

Its strange to Mohinder that being with Sylar hasn't completely sent him insane or down the path of the Darkside. Its also strange the tenderness Sylar shows him when they are together. One would assume that, since he is a cold-blooded murderer, he would be abusive, hateful, and destructive in bed; that he would make Mohinder scream and bleed and sob and hate it.

But he's not.

He's wonderful and kind and the touches and strokes are like feathers caressing Mohinder's skin.

And its almost torture, because Mohinder wants him to go harder and be more violent. He doesn't want Sylar to act so lovingly towards him. He wants Sylar to be the cruel soulles monster Mohinder expects him to be.

Then, one day, he sees the symbol for yin and yang and somehow...it makes sense to him. The evil, the yin, needs a little of the goodness, the yang, to exist, and vice versa. But Mohinder had to wonder, how did the yin and the yang have a little of each other inside of them. Did the yin take from the yang, or did the yang willingly give it up? Were the yang and yin just made like that?

How?

Why?

Then Sylar touches Mohinder, and, after climaxing, it's so clear. The yang and the yin tainted each other. They made each other impure. They gave a little of each other in some strange, unholy union and they ruined themselves.

But they don't care. They love each other. They want each other. They _need_ each other. If not, everything falls apart.


	4. Drabble 4

_I did this one for a Secret Santa Heroes thing on LJ. The prompt for that was the song "Let it Snow" and the pairing of Mylar._

**ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes. Or Christmas. Cause if she did, she would have totally opened a can of whoop-ass on teh GRINCH!**

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Mohinder had seen snow before, once. It was when he was a little kid, visiting his mother's family. They lived in the mountains in the northern part of India. He could remember it so vividly: when he first ran out into the soft white fluff, he fell face-first. He was expecting it to be as soft as it looked, instead of the icy top layer that he first had to fall through to get to the soft stuff. Mohinder and instantly gotten up, face red with embarrassment and cold, and ran strat back to his mother's legs, saying how he didn't like the snow and he never wanted to see it ever, ever again.

The family member had died within the next year, so Mohinder was well on his way to never seeing snow again.

Than he grew up and decided to follow in his father's footsteps. That lead him to New York, which lead to Virginia Beach and _him_. Even before Mohinder knew that Zane wasn't Zane, he would think, "If it hadn't been for Zane, I wouldn't be going all the way across the country to find this woman."

(----------)

Mohinder remembered the upset feeling he had when he saw snow in Montana. He knew he was going to trip and fall again and break something. He just knew he was going to slip and fall on his face again, breaking his two front teeth and make him look absolutely stupid. And Sylar-Zane would laugh at him in that geekily cute laugh of his and Mohinder would feel even more stupid than he already would.

Mohinder did eventually trip on some black ice. It was the night after they met Dale. They were in the parking lot of the motel and Mohinder was getting his computer bag, which he had accidentally left in the car. Mohinder hadn't seen or expected the black ice, so when his shoe slipped and he was falling backwards, everything seemed to slow down; time, Mohinder's thought process, his comprehension.

Which is why it took almost a minute for Mohinder to notice that Sylar-Zane had caught him.

"Are you okay?" Sylar-Zane asked.

Mohinder felt his face heat up. He righted himself and nodded, curtly answering "Yes" and thanking his companion before getting the bag.

(----------)

Mohinder had gone walking outside the next night. The night after finding Dale's dead body.

He had needed something to clear his mind and alcohol was not readily availiable where he was. So walking, taking in the clean, cold air that almost froze his lungs was the next best thing. Mohinder had lost track of time while he was out there. He didn't check his watch. He didn't want to. Everytime he did, he would think of how many hours it had been since that afternoon.

Mohinder stopped pacing after a while, clutching his coat close. He was beginning to feel numb in mind and body. This Sylar thing, the finding of special people, it was all too much for him to go after all by himself. He just wouldn't be able to do it alone. If he did, he knew, it would kill him.

An extra layer of pre-heated cloth was layed on Mohinder's shoulders. Mohinder didn't react visibly. He only thought of how strong Zane's--Sylar's actually but he didn't know this yet--hands were.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Mohinder closed his eyes. "Than you're keeping that penny."

Sylar-Zane took a step closer. Now he was right behind Mohinder. "Is that because you just aren't or because you're trying not to."

Mohinder bowed his head. "I don't know."

Sylar-Zane wrapped his arms around Mohinder, sitting his chin on the Indian's left shoulder. "I'm always here if you need to talk to someone."

Mohinder felt tears spring forward. "For how long, though?"

Sylar-Zane's lips brushed against the back of Mohinder's ear. "For as long as you need me."

(----------)

Mohinder saw snow one more time before he saw Sylar again. Mohinder remembered recieving that phone call. He was so scared, but also so excited. Anxious is probably the emotion he felt or should have felt. But Mohinder had felt anxious before and what he felt wasn't anxiety. It was...or at least it could have been relief. Relief that Sylar was still alive. Relief, and maybe hope. Hope that Sylar would become like Zane again.

Unfortunately, that was not so. Sylar was there on a mission: to save himself and than to take the abilities of a poor young woman. Mohinder had seen the way Maya looked at Sylar. First, he felt a little jealous. Sylar was manipulative, so what had he done to so completely obtain this woman's trust and affection. Was it the same thing that Sylar did to obtain Mohinder's? Than Mohinder saw how little Sylar thought of Maya and began to hope again.

Maya spoke to him a little afterwards. She explained how she met Sylar, how he gained her trust and helped her to control her sickness, how her brother had tried to get Maya out of Sylar's control but she had ignored him, and how she had loved him.

Maya had used Mohinder's shoulder to cry on. Mohinder wanted nothing more than to beat Maya senseless. He hated the fact that this woman, who had been so naive as to pick up and instantly trust someone she had found face-down on the ground in the middle of nowhere, had gotten the privilage to kiss Sylar, the one man who gave Mohinder a real sense of purpose.

But he didn't do anything. Just sit there, letting Maya use his shoulder as a Kleenex to wipe away her tears.

(----------)

The next time it snowed was the next time Mohinder saw Sylar. Mohinder had gone out, wanting to be by himself. He didn't know where he was going, only that his feet were moving and that they were taking him someplace. At one point, Mohinder just stopped walking. He stood and waited, not sure what he was waiting for but know that he had come to the place that he had been sent to go.

He felt those arms wrap around him again.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Mohinder leaned into Sylar. "It's so cold outside."

Sylar didn't answer right away. Instead, he held Mohinder even tighter. Mohinder closed his eyes. "But...if you hold me tight...I know that I'll be able to stay warm."

Sylar bent his head down and kissed Mohinder's neck. "I know a place you can stay. Just for tonight."

Mohinder let himself be lead, knowing that he should say "no".Sylar tugged Mohinder into him. Sylar's arms sat on the small of Mohinder's back. He let his lips slide against Mohinder's, and Mohinder thouroughly enjoyed it. Mohinder leaned into Sylar. He nodded lazily. Sylar wrapped his arm around Mohinder's shoulders and lead him down the sidewalk.


	5. Drabble 5

_This was an entry from the 2007 LJ Mylar Ficathon. The prompt was popsicle, which was cool cause all I basically did was break apart a fic I had written previously and rebuild it into this. (I plagerised(?) myself!)_

**ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes. Ker-POW!**

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Sylar was just sleeping on the couch, pleasantly dreaming about controlling the world, when cold drops on his bare stomach jarred him back to consciousness. His first instinct was to find the source of the cold drips and permanently take care of it. The thought quickly scattered when Sylar saw a sweaty Mohinder leaning over the back of the couch, thin wife beater revealing his well-defined chest, lips circled around a popsicle.

Sylar could hear the next-door-neighbor's television. It was an old couple, who didn't get out much and always had the television set to the news station. He could hear the annoyingly chipper weatherman saying, undoubtedly with that corny smile Sylar always desired to rip off that man's perfectly-shaven face, that today was another high for New York in the so-far ten-day heat wave. He wouldn't be concerned though, because he spent all day in a nicely air-conditioned television studio. Unlike the many apartment buildings Sylar and Mohinder and the old couple and all the others like them lived in: cheap roach motels whose residents were lucky to get a working air conditioner. Sylar and Mohinded, who had been lucky so far, seemed to have spent all their luck-chips. Their air conditioner conked out two days ago.

The ice cream dripped on Sylar's stomach again. He looked back up at Mohinder. "You just gonna stand there?"

Mohinder nodded. He took the popsicle slowly out of his mouth. It was those cone-shaped, rainbow-colored ones. Mohinder's pink tongue poked out, finding a starting point at the base of the popsicle and letting his tongue slide up it, slowly, methodically. Sylar clenched his jaw. Mohinder had made sex forbidden since this damn heat wave started, saying that he was hot enough without Sylar on top of him. Sylar thought that was a load of bull since India was probably this hot, if not hotter. Sylar had actually pointed this out the second night the "no sex" rule was in effect. Mohinder said that in Madras, it was a dry heat. Here in New York, heat was mixed with an eighty-or-more percent humidity and that if Sylar didn't stop telekenetically pulling Mohinder's boxers down, he was going to kick him out of the bed.

"Are there any more of those?" Sylar asked. Mohinder shook his head. His heart said he was telling the truth. Sylar leaned back and sighed. The ex-serial killer may have had cryokinesis, but cooling the whole apartment took a lot out of Sylar and Mohinder was sexier when sweaty. Sylar put his hands on his forehead and let the cool feeling spread from the top of his head, down his spine, and to the tips of his toes. He kept his eyes on Mohinder, and what he was doing to that lucky popsicle.

The ice cream treat went in and out, in and out. Mohinder's tongue was moving up and down the popsicle, sometimes pushing past the lips, sometimes not. Mohinder would swirl the popsicle around in his mouth, getting it completely wet. Sylar could hear Mohinder swallow the melted juices whenever he took the popsicle out of his mouth. Then he would lick the entire thing and put it in his mouth again, starting that painfully erotic process again. About the third time Mohinder pulled it out, it had the marks of his front teeth grazing the surface.

"That's it!" Sylar yelled. He flicked his wrist, making the popsicle fly and splatter against the opposite wall. He flicked his wrist again, and Mohinder was sent tumbling to the ground. Sylar hopped over the back of the couch and stradled Mohinder's hips, leaning down so that his mouth could work on the spot where sensitive neck met the soft skin of the shoulders. "Sylar!" Mohinder whined. "It's too hot!"

Sylar growled he slid his hands under Mohinder's wife beater and clawed Mohinder's chest and stomach, leaving a chilly feeling behind. Mohinder shivered and moaned. Sylar smirked. Now that it wasn't too hot, Sylar could make Mohinder do fun things to his popsicle.


	6. Drabble 6

_Another entry from the Mylar ficathon. I kinda forget what the prompt was. It was either "blood" or "vampire". They're pretty much the same._

**ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes. Or LJ. (bleep)**

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The only thing sweeter than the taste of Mohinder's skin is the taste of his blood.

Normally, blood is metallic, and who wants to taste something metallic? Sylar doesn't. After all those playground beatings that ended with a cut lip, sliced gum, bitten inner-cheek, lost tooth, the former watch maker knows what blood tastes like. It's unappetising. It's sickening if you're not used to it. It's nothing you really want to become used to. Unless you're a vampire. But vampires don't exist in real life.

Then again, in the most intimate moments of passion, Sylar can't help but nibble a little too hard on Mohinder's neck, just to taste that sweet, sweet blood of his.


End file.
